


Two Weeks and One Winter

by LogosMinusPity



Series: FangRai Forever [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Challenge Response, Cuddles, F/F, FangRai February, Prompt #3, Two Weeks in the Winter Woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogosMinusPity/pseuds/LogosMinusPity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In which Fang and Lightning challenge each other to two weeks in the woods after a bet gone too far. They go out in the middle of winter. Shenanigans and freezing cuddles ensue." - Prompt #3, FangRai February</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Weeks and One Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Swampert653 (lionsenpai)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionsenpai/gifts).



> This story is in response to/for Prompt #3 at the FangRai-February Tumblr, originally submitted by Swampert653: "In which Fang and Lightning challenge each other to two weeks in the woods after a bet gone too far. They go out in the middle of winter. Shenanigans and freezing cuddles ensue."
> 
> Please enjoy!

It had _seemed_ like a good idea at the time.

Okay, if she was going to be honest with herself, it had never struck her as a particularly brilliant idea, but the woman just always seemed to have this particular _way_ of being able to press Lightning’s buttons, and Lightning had to admit that she always felt inclined to respond, even when she knew it was something anyone else would consider idiotic.

It wasn’t the same as with Snow, who simply irritated her.  No, most of the time, she really did enjoy the company of the Pulsian native.  Fang was similar enough to her in just all the right ways to understand Lightning, but different enough that Lightning liked spending time with her…more than liked spending time with her—but that was a separate issue.  Really, Fang should have known better than to place the blatant challenge between the two of them; of course, she should have known better than to accept.

But Fang had thrown the gauntlet at just the right moment, had egged her on enough that when she had tauntingly said, “You Cocoon natives probably don’t even know what to do with snow, let alone _how_ to go about surviving in the winter on Gran Pulse!”, Lightning had snapped back before she could even think it through, her pride stung by the insinuation that her skills were subpar to Fang’s by any measure.

Never mind the fact that she had been more than well-trained by the Guardian Corps on solitary survival, never mind that she—just as much as Fang—had conquered her way through the uninhabited wilds of Gran Pulse during their stint as l’Cie.

All logic had been thrown clear out the window the moment the she had hissed her response back that she could handle any time in the wilderness just as well if not better than Fang; and she had been far too obstinate to dare stepping back down—even when Serah and Vanille had tried to convince them both otherwise—after the terms of a two-week challenge in the woods had been laid out, which is how she found herself here, on the snowy face of Mount Gagazet, already one unhappy week behind her, but a second one still yet to be completed before she could return home with her pride safe and intact.

She would do it, and continue to brave the harsh winter on the mountainside even if it killed her, because death would clearly be preferable than having to handle Fang’s insufferable gloating if she conceded before the Pulsian.

But, _gods,_ did she hate the cold!  Cocoon never had snow or winter; the fal’Cie had seen to that.  She had adapted to life on Gran Pulse, but even then, winter on a mountainside was not the same as winter in a valley and in an insulated and powered home.

Lightning smoothed away the glare that had been forming on her face, and looked back out over the winter landscape presented before her.  She was approximately half way up the pine tree that she had decided to scale, comfortably set on one of its thick branches that provided an open view of the white world that surrounded her.  It also made it that much easier to spot Fang moving in the distance.

What _was_ that bright purple thing she had on?  It certainly had not been there any of the past days that they had met up.

Lightning waited patiently until Fang wandered into closer range, and then she let loose a perfectly aimed shot into the snow just to the left of the huntress.  Fang froze, then looked around, searching.  When her eyes at last found the soldier, they lit up, and she jogged close to the base of the pine tree, resting her weight against her lance as she jammed it into the frozen ground.

“Oh, fancy seeing you, Light.”

Lightning rolled her eyes at the flippant comment, not to be deterred. “What on earth is that?”

“What, this?” Fang plucked at her purple cloak with one hand.  At this proximity, Lightning could see that the material was a heavily matted fur of some sort. “This is just a little souvenir from the mountain, you could say.  Bashura are nasty critters, but they live in the alpine for a reason.  I think the color suits me, too, don’t you?”

When there was no immediate response, Fang grinned and continued.

“Oh, and the extra fur makes such a deliciously warm blanket.  Almost makes the night feel like summer!”

Lightning ground her teeth in a silent furor, not doubting the underlying truth of Fang’s claim.  The synthetics she had brought to wear certainly did the job of keeping her alive, but it was just that—the military-issued coat and various base layers were simply designed to keep their wearer alive in the arctic conditions, and nothing more.  As the survival bet dragged on into the second week, Lightning had to begrudgingly admit that while her clothes kept her alive, she could never argue that they kept her as comfortably warm as what Fang’s fur seemed to.

As if she could read minds, Fang grinned even wider and waggled her fingers in a pantomime of a farewell wave.

“I’m off now, but if the cold does finally get to you, you know whose warm lair and bed you can come crawling to when you want to admit defeat.  Oh, and groveling always helps to win my mercy,” she suggested, knowing cursedly well that the taunt would hit on target.

Lightning felt her eyes narrow dangerously.  Groveling?  Really?

“Fang, you had best walk away while you still have legs with which to do so.”

The huntress bowed low and took her slow, swaggering leave, calling out as she left. “Stay warm, sunshine!”

Lightning growled aloud to herself from her perch on the branch.  The woman was so damn _impossible_!

Lightning let the smile play on her features even as she felt her adrenaline surge at the retreating purple form in the distance.  She would show Fang yet.

She would have her way with Oerba Yun Fang, eventually, of that much she suddenly felt sure.

But first, she had a bet to complete.

 

* * *

 

They were a week and a half into their survival bet, and Fang was still periodically asking herself what had possessed her to initiate the challenge.  Now was one of those moments, as she trekked her way through the bright daylight and the heavy snow.

 _Alright_ , she quickly amended to herself. _So maybe I do know what got me to do it._

She and Lightning had grown much closer in the past year as they all rebuilt their lives on Gran Pulse, and unlike some of their other companions, Fang had developed a sixth sense concerning how to decipher and handle Light’s frequently stone-faced personality, and she could say with a large degree of surety that the two were much, much closer that what they had ever been before.

And then there was the flirting.  She had to admit that much to herself.  Even if neither of them had said it aloud yet, it didn’t change the nature of the beast itself.  At the very least, she knew it was flirting on her end of things, and considering that—as even Serah had once exclaimed, somewhat bewildered—Lightning didn’t act like _that_ around _anyone_ except for Fang, she was pretty certain that it was, all around, flirting.

It was also probably the most bizarre, somewhat crazy, and completely round-about way of flirting she had ever engaged it, but that’s what made it so damn fun for the both of them.  The aggressive challenges, the hunts, Lightning’s rather violent counters at times…it was all more than worth it to her; the chase was half of the enjoyment, and she was intent on making Light be the first to act and follow through.  Although, even Fang had to concede that this time they might have gone a bit too far.  She would be content to go back to the more normal standards of teasing for a while once they were finished here, because, gods above and below, it was _cold_!

Granted, they were both surviving their two weeks thus far on Mount Gagazet, though Fang liked to think that she had been doing a slightly better job at it than her champagne-haired interest, and she smiled as she readjusted the newly made fur cloak around her shoulders.

Nothing could replace the insulation of natural fur, not even the fancy winter clothes Lightning had gotten through the GC.  Of course, for once Fang could say definitively that she enjoyed the view of those garments on Light more than what some shapeless furs would have looked like.  Even with all of the extra layers, those form-fitting synthetics looked good on Farron, showing off all the right angles and attributes of the lean, muscled woman.  It was a sight to be appreciated, which is precisely what Fang had done for a grinning instant when she had first laid eyes on Farron at the beginning of this mad man’s bet.

Even better than that view, though, had been the priceless look on Farron’s face when Fang had showed up several days in with the newly skinned pelt of the bashura that was now cloaking her.  The bashura had not been the easiest mark for her, but the four-armed snow beast had been well worth the extended effort for its thick and luxuriously warm purple pelt, to say nothing of how ironically thunderstruck Lightning had looked once she saw Fang saunter in to the tundra clearing while wearing it.

That had, undoubtedly, put Fang an extra point up in terms of who was “winning” so far, and Light had yet to even the score, which had to be vexing her competitive nature to no end.

Fang thought to her own supplies briefly.  She had enough rations for the moment.  The half-dead grat she had managed to hunt down two days ago still offered some food for her, though it was by no means delectable.  What she wouldn’t give to be back on the plains right now, able to hunt some real food for herself…ah, but that was the nature of their bet.  Just a few more days and it would be back to a warm bed and hot food for the both of them.  She was a bit curious to know how Farron had been providing for herself; Fang was an expert hunter, and even then it had been hard work for her to scavenge food in these conditions.  That was separate matter, though.  Back onto the thought of Lightning, she decided it was a fine time to see if she could go track down her wayward soldier and see what she was up to at the moment.  They hadn’t seen each other in nearly two days, since the blizzard had blown in.  But because the storm had passed overnight, the skies were clear and the air was fresh.  It was a fine opportunity to go irritate the elder Farron again.  And if she was particularly lucky, she might even be able to sneak up Light and manage to pelt her with a few snowballs before having to make a run for her life.

Snickering at the thought, Fang continued her jovial march through the snow drifts.  However, all of her playful thoughts ended sharply when she arrived at the frozen lake on the mountainside, and found her intended target, making her stop short.

There was Lightning, bundled up in her tight-fitting, military-issue winter gear.  In fact, if it weren’t for her distinctive twist of champagne hair and the puffs of steam that rhythmically plumed from her face, her white form would have been nearly indistinguishable from the winter background of the snow drifts and the frozen lake.  But it wasn’t really Lightning that Fang was staring at; it was what the soldier was _doing_ , seated quite comfortably on a small, foldable stool by an open circle in the ice, with a set of mouthwateringly fresh fish already laid out by her side, clearly indicating what the stringed pole she was holding was for, just in case Fang had any doubts.

“Wha…wh—” Fang felt herself openly gaping.

“Use your words, Oerba Yun Fang.  That’s what they’re there for.”

 _That_ got Fang to snap her mouth back shut.  For once, she felt herself unable to smirk or make a witty comment back at Lightning’s overly prim and pleased tone, so she settled with scowling darkly.

“Since when did _you_ learn to ice fish!”

She tried to internally convince herself that she did not sound as accusatory and bewildered as what she thought she might, but the way the corners of Light’s lips twitched upward dashed any hopes of that, and she silently cursed. 

“Why?  Don’t tell me you’ve been trying to _hunt_ for food up here, have you?”

Of course Lightning knew she’d been hunting.  Of course she knew how damnably hard it was to find any kind of game during the winter!  Why hadn’t she thought to ice fish, dammit!?  She continued to glower her frustration while Lightning continued to smile back; for once she understood the position the soldier was normally in when she threatened to clobber Fang because the warrior had done something as deliberately sassy and pert as Lightning was now.  Fang took a menacing step forward, a mischievous smile finally breaking her features as she re-hefted her lance.

They’d never laid down any rules about thievery, now had they?  And it would be the best way that she could now think of to tweak Farron’s nose again—a bold burglary and daring escape back to her lair with her newly ill-gained goods.

Lightning immediately shifted in her stool, one hand releasing her fishing pole and straying toward her gunblade.  Her brow had now tightened in forewarning, but the flickers of a smile of brute confidence continued to tug at her lips, and she let loose a low, husky warning that only served to make Fang even more delightfully determined in her new task.

“Don’t.  Even.  Fang…”

Fang took one more step closer on the ice, and before she could launch her attack, the fishing pole suddenly ripped out of Lightning’s hand with more force than what any simple trout could muster, dragged into the dark water and out of sight.

“What the..?!” Lightning’s exclamation died as a large shadow grew under them at an alarming rate.

Then they both looked up, shared a timeless look of pure terror, and then the ice gave way beneath their feet and beneath the direct charge of a fully grown maelspike.

The giant predatory fish shattered the thick ice shelf with its twin curled horns, and before either of them could even utter a scream, they were plunged into the freezing waters of the lake.

Fang felt as though her lungs were seizing with the rush of absolutely glacial cold.  She froze for a bare second, and then her survival instinct kicked in and she pumped her arms and legs hard until she broke the surface of the water again.  The fresh winter air burned her lungs and nostrils, but felt almost terrifyingly warm compared to the lake water.  There was only the briefest instant to catch a glance of Light’s bright strawberry hair several lengths away before the maelspike breached a second time, and the resultant waves threw Fang back down under the floating chunks of ice.

When she resurfaced a second time, she managed to sputter out a call to Lightning as she coughed up water.

“Light!”

She didn’t even need to finish the rest of her thought before Lightning flashed her blade and nodded back. “Right.”

For a third time, Fang went back underwater, torpedoing her body sideways when the fish tried to spear her.  She turned back to counter, and saw Lightning already hanging on to the top dorsal fin of the beast, plunging her blade into the back of the fish.  Taking the opportunity while it showed itself, Fang switched directions toward the maelspike’s head, stabbing her lance as deep as it could go through the scaly exterior.

The maelspike stiffened and thrashed in its death throes, and Fang and Lightning had to quickly pull back their respective weapons lest they lose them as the creature began to plummet toward the lightless depths of the lake, plumes of dark blood blossoming out from it.

Upon breaking the surface, Fang paddled as fast as she could manage toward the shoreline.  She heard her spear clatter against the ice as she threw it out of the water, and then she hauled her soaked and tired body out of the lake and back into the bitterly cold air.  For one long moment, she just laid there while her mind chattered frantically that she had to force her herself back up and to move.  She finally managed to do so when she heard Lightning shuffle toward her.

“We need to…need to…g-get to warmth.”

Lightning’s teeth were already chattering violently and she was taking the same short, gasping breaths that Fang was.

“Do you…?”

The question went unasked as they both simultaneously looked down at the comm. device still hooked to Lightning’s belt.  _Did_ they want to radio in for a pick-up?  Fang didn’t need the soldier to tell her what kind of deep shit they had just gotten into.  Cold was one thing, but wet and cold was an entirely different issue, and could kill if they didn’t rectify it, and soon.  But on the other hand…did they want to call Serah and Vanille for an emergency pickup all because of one rogue maelspike, and with only a few scant days left in their challenge?

Fang looked back up into Lightning’s eyes and saw the sharp glint of defiance that she knew surely had to be present in her own.  Any other sane person would have argued, would have questioned even thinking otherwise, but at the end of the day, Fang supposed that’s exactly what she liked just so much about Light—the woman possessed her exact same brand of mild insanity.  No chance were they going to radio in for a pickup unless they had no other options left.

“My s-spot is maybe a five minute walk from here.” Fang focused _very_ hard on trying to not stutter as her own teeth started chattering. “Unless yours is…?”

Lightning shook her head convulsively in response.  “Let’s go.  And quickly.”

 

* * *

 

Lightning sat huddled before the now roaring bonfire blaze that they had started in large cave that was Fang’s makeshift lair.  Her muscles still quaked for all that she was now dry and dressed in new clothes, courtesy of Fang.  The long tunic and pants were a bit over-sized for her smaller frame, but she could care less about aesthetics at the moment; it was a vast improvement from where her own still dripping gear lay on the far side of the fire, waiting to dry out alongside Fang’s.

She idly heard Fang moving somewhere behind her, presumably still changing into her own set of clothes, and she quashed the urge to turn around and look.

“Well, this is a definite improvement, I guess.”

She finally looked up at the comment, seeing Fang now in a fresh set of dry clothes.  Fang eyed her back. “Sorry…don’t have any quite in your size.”

Lightning shrugged and shivered, and gestured back toward their drying clothes. “Better than that mess.”

She turned back, and Fang was standing over her holding a large purple-furred blanket in hand—the other part of the bashura pelt, Lightning recognized.

“Here, Light, you’re still freezing.  This will help warm you up.” 

Fang draped the heavy, blanket-like pelt over Lightning, and beneath the fur, Light felt the worst edge of the bone-biting cold ease.  When the huntress took a step back, Lightning quirked her head, confused.  Fang had been wearing her corresponding bashura cloak when they had gone for their impromptu swim.  It was laid out across the bonfire, in no condition to provide any extra warmth to anyone until dry.

“What about you?”

“Me?” laughed Fang, though it sounded a bit forced. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.  Just need to scrounge up a few more of my extra clothes and blanket…”

As touching as the gesture was, it was also supremely stupid.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Fang,” said Lightning tartly, for all that she was still shivering. “As much as I appreciate the gesture, you have to be as cold as I am, and this is more than big enough to share.”

She said it without any hesitation, because it was undeniably the truth.  Even beneath her normally tan face, Fang’s complexion was unnaturally pale, as though the color had been leeched from her.  The huntress stopped at her words, looking somewhat sheepish, and then she ducked in and under one of Lightning’s arms, pressing herself next to the soldier and gratefully accepting the extra warmth of the shared fur blanket.

For her part, Lightning stiffened as soon as she felt the press of Fang’s body against hers, and she had to internally scream at herself that this was a purely platonic situation, necessary to ensure their recovery and survival for the day.  She also reminded herself that unless she convinced her muscles to relax and warm up, she was likely to end up tearing something with all of the acute physical stress.

The next few minutes were silent as they both stared into the fire, and Lightning was slowly able to persuade her muscles to relax through sheer willpower.  A few more errant shivers ran through her body, but it was no longer from the chill.  Against Fang like this, and comfortably settled near the fire, the dull ache of the winter cold seemed to have finally dissipated from her bones.

“Some survival team, we make, huh?” Fang laughed softly, breaking the silence. “Nearly beaten by an oversized fish.”

“It was a very big fish,” tempered Lightning, managing to sound serious even as she felt her lips press together in an attempt to repress her smile.

Fang pondered this before turning her head to forcefully catch Lightning’s gaze. “True…but maybe we just keep this to ourselves.  No need to let Serah and Vanille know about it.  Just our little, not-at-all-embarrassing, secret.”

Her malachite eyes glittered and gleamed as they caught the light of the flames; and her cheeks seemed rosier now, more of their natural color replacing itself back.  Lightning found herself smiling back, even as she felt a liquid heat surge back through her from within her gut, and she shivered against her will, while her cheeks warmed at the close proximity of Fang’s face to her own.

It was close enough to easily see the transition as Fang’s brow furrowed and her smile faded momentarily.

“You don’t have fever, do you?” Fang’s voice was now worried, and she pressed a hand Lightning’s forehead before Light could bat it away, certain that it was only causing her blush to worsen.

 _Absurd_.  She hadn’t even the faintest whiff of a sneeze ever since being a l’Cie; completed Focus aside, it seemed that former l’Cie were still granted the extraordinary resilience to illness.

“No, Fang…I…” She trailed off.

No, she wasn’t sick.  The real reason for her rising temperature and blood pressure was sitting right next to her, a hand pressed on her forehead.

Lightning looked long and hard into Fang’s eyes, and recalled all of the silent arguments and questions that had plagued her for the past few month.  She thought of all of the peculiar but well-meaning challenges, of the periodic compliments, of the occasional soft but lingering touches…and she thought, rationally, of just what situation the two of them were in now, and of just what more she was exactly waiting for.

She smiled then, and made the slightest of nods to herself.

Then she closed the distance and pressed her lips fully and confidently against Fang’s, and felt every bit as good as what she had imagined in the most secretly guarded corners of her mind.  Before she could fully pull back from the peck, a hand snaked up to cup the back of her head.

“Nuh-uh.” Lightning’s eyes opened to see Fang’s boring into her own, now a bright emerald. “No way am I letting this chance slip away…”

Then Fang’s lips were back, moving gently across hers and evoking a new kind of heat that warmed both of them and made Lightning’s toes curl in pleasure as they slowly explored and learned the taste of each others mouths and skin.  At some point, when they both finally pulled back to catch their breath, Lightning realized that they had long since moved to laying down, and even now her arms remained entangled in Fang’s hair while one of Fang’s arms remained draped over her stomach—and that she had no desire to move while they both lay there and she felt the Oerban draw small circles into her abdomen.

Although, as if to spite the thought, another chilled shiver from ran down her back.

Having noticed, Fang grinned.  It was not her usual, cocky grin, though, but something softer and gentler, filled with a distinct sweetness.

“C’mere, you bone-headed woman,” she said endearingly, pulling Lightning against her even more tightly than before.

Lightning let out a satiated sigh as she felt Fang press a soft kiss on the top of her head, happy to do nothing more for the day than remain comfortably settled where she was, and pleased beyond words that Fang appeared content to do the same.

She fell asleep by the flickering light of the bonfire, warmed by not only the blaze and the heavy fur blanket, but by the heat of Fang’s body against hers, her head nestled in the crook of the huntress’s neck as though it had always belonged there.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first prompt-based story I've ever written, and, boy, did, it get written surprisingly fast. Certainly not my best piece ever, but I had fun with it, and I hope you did, too. Also, a shout-out to Swampert653 for the inspirational prompt that led to this. 
> 
> Please support/contribute to FangRai February! Thanks!


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